


A century of not being a Morning Person

by Becassine



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, M/M, Morning Cuddles, POV Bucky Barnes, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27556894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Becassine/pseuds/Becassine
Summary: Bucky reflects on how mornings are different in the twenty first century. Oh and he doesn't like alarm clocks.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 26
Kudos: 105





	A century of not being a Morning Person

**Author's Note:**

> So this entire fic came from this fanart that I spotted on Tumblr back in the summer. Please take a look at it [here](https://fromchive.tumblr.com/post/90120625149/holiday) and go show it some love because it is just the cutest shit.
> 
> The alternate title to this was 'Ring The Alarm (Bucky's throwing elbows)' so there's that.
> 
> This was just an idea that span into something writeable. I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to leave comments & kudos seeing as they're my lifeblood.

Mornings, Bucky figures, are much better in the 21st century. He doesn’t have all his memories back, knows by now that it’s as good as it’s probably going to get after seventy years of being wiped after every mission, but thanks to the serum doing some sort of regeneration job he remembers some things about life back in Brooklyn. _Before_.

The sharp chill of winter air seeping into their tenement through the warped wood of the window - Bucky always slept on the side of the bed closest to the window to act as a natural windbreak - and how he’d pull the blankets, quilts and whatever else they had to spare on top of himself and Steve to keep them both warm when they got a particularly cold winter.

Bucky was never a morning person, sleeping right up until the alarm clock woke him, shrill and sudden. He’d reach out and thwack it off on the nightstand with eyes still closed, giving himself a few more moments in bed and its delicious warmth before getting up. Lips pressed against the nape of Steve’s neck, the fine blond hairs tickling his nose as he slowly woke. Bucky always found that the frigid air was a more effective wake up call than the damn clock when he eventually moved, sending him from asleep to wide awake in just a second or two as it chilled his skin and made him shiver. 

Then the routine would almost always be the same. Bundle the blankets over Steve, quickly wash up and shave using cold water in the sink and Sarah’s old mirror hung on the wall, pull his clothes on before he froze his balls off. He’d usually prepare breakfast for them both whilst listening out for the wheeze of Steve’s breath, trying to work out if today would be a good day or one where he’d come home at lunch under the pretense of forgetting something to check that Steve was fine and wasn’t doing something stupid like trying to clean the apartment because he couldn’t pay his way right now. 

A rustle, grunt and then “Buck?”

“Yeah Stevie, what is it?”

“What timessit?”

“Early, pal.” He’d turn to see Steve’s hair a bright, pale blond on the pillow, his face not even visible with how bundled up he was. “Go back to sleep, I’ll leave the oatmeal on the stove for you to warm up.”

“I can cook breakfast.” A yawn, loud and unstifled. “Y’gonna be at the docks all day, lemme do it.”

Bucky shook his head, more for show than because he knew Steve would be watching. “You coughed most of last night. Stay in bed today, huh? You can draw from there.”

Steve had lost his last job at the grocery store a month ago when he’d caught a bad cold, the illness knocking him on his ass and into bed literally. Bucky always planned ahead and took on more work over the winter, happy to work on the more dangerous or outside jobs at the docks for extra pay. Steve hated it, vocally said so, but as Bucky pointed out, they had to eat and they had to afford Steve’s medicine. It was a non-negotiable. Steve still argued - sometimes - that Bucky’d be better off without him but a roll of his eyes and a glare with a sarcastic “really?” would end that argument.

Most of the time at least.

In the future though? Now he doesn’t have to get up in the morning until he wants to. Since Steve stepped down as Captain America and started going as Nomad, the missions have been further and farther apart. He deals with strategic missions nowadays rather than the ad-hoc drama the Avengers tends to assemble for and - for the most part - it works. The two of them switch up where they live depending on how they feel. They’ll always have a place to call home in Wakanda, T’Challa and Shuri have made that clear, but Bucky caught Steve sketching the NYC skyline and suggested that they come home for a bit. 

It wasn’t the tenement - thank God in Bucky’s opinion - but it was a brownstone, decked with the bits of Stark technology that Bucky could stand to put up with. He doesn’t much like the idea of being spied on when he’s had a lack of autonomy for most of his life. The place is cluttered with things they’ve collected over the years, a sprawling sense of homeliness that Bucky likes. On a bad day, he stays home and looks at their belongings, reminds himself that he’s safe.

And what does Bucky do on a good day? Bucky does whatever he damn pleases and he inwardly - sometimes outwardly - grins if anyone tries to tell him otherwise because they, and not he, will get the patented ‘Steve Rogers Is Disappointed In You’ face. It’s similar to the ‘Captain America is Disappointed In You’ face but it comes with bluer language if somebody doesn’t get the message from the face alone. Bucky is fully capable of telling anybody to go fuck themselves but he can’t deny that it’s mostly a turn-on when Steve does it for him and they both know it. Instead he mostly hangs out in their neighbourhood, either volunteering at the animal shelter or reacquainting himself with the best places to eat and where to get unexpected items for the apartment or gifts for their friends. Once a sergeant, always a sergeant and he likes to surprise Steve, get that delighted and unexpected smile out of him as often as possible.

So this morning? When the alarm clock goes off unexpectedly? Bucky groans into Steve’s skin. He doesn’t get an answering murmur straight away and so he kicks Steve’s ankle to zero response before cracking an eye open. It’s the work of a moment to lean across Steve’s chest and smash the damn thing with his left arm, not bothering to move back but settling across his husband like a lazy, overgrown cat instead.

“Buck, did you smash the alarm clock again?” Steve mutters sleepily, arm reaching up to wrap around Bucky’s waist and keep him where he is.

“Mmhmm.” 

Steve chuckles and lands a dry kiss against his neck. “JARVIS?”

“A new alarm clock has been ordered, Sir.”

Bucky smiles to himself and snuggles in closer, drifting back off to sleep with Steve’s arm wrapped around him and his heartbeat strong and regular underneath his ear.

Yeah, mornings really aren’t too bad here.


End file.
